VIRGINIA’S RANCH NEIGHBORS
[Illustration: They were entering the door-yard where a cowboy advanced
to take their ponies.]
VIRGINIA’S RANCH NEIGHBORS
By GRACE MAY NORTH
Author of
“Virginia of V. M. Ranch,” “Virginia at Vine Haven,”
“Virginia’s Adventure Club,” “Virginia’s Romance.”
A. L. BURT COMPANY
Publishers—New York
Printed in U. S. A.
THE VIRGINIA DAVIS SERIES
A SERIES OF STORIES FOR GIRLS OF TWELVE TO SIXTEEN YEARS OF AGE
By GRACE MAY NORTH
VIRGINIA OF V. M. RANCH
VIRGINIA AT VINE HAVEN
VIRGINIA’S ADVENTURE CLUB
VIRGINIA’S RANCH NEIGHBORS
VIRGINIA’S ROMANCE
Copyright, 1924
By A. L. BURT COMPANY
VIRGINIA’S RANCH NEIGHBORS
Made in “U. S. A.”
VIRGINIA’S RANCH NEIGHBORS
CHAPTER I—HOME ONCE MORE
“Oh Virg, are we really to arrive at your desert home this morning?”
Betsy Clossen exclaimed the first moment that she opened her eyes on
the fifth day after their departure from the Vine Haven Boarding
School.
“Not until nearly noon,” Virginia, who was dressing in the lower
berth, smiled up at the eager face that peered down from the upper.
“And will your nice brother Malcolm be there to meet us, do you
suppose?”
“I certainly hope so. I wired him from Chicago that we were to be on
this train. If he can’t come himself, for any reason, he will surely
send Lucky over with the car.”
“That’s one disillusioning thing about the desert,” Betsy continued.
“I’m powerfully sorry that you have an automobile. It’s heaps too
modern. I wish we were to be met with a—well a prairie schooner or
something like that.”
Virg laughed. “I’m afraid you are going to be disappointed in us,
Betsy. You’ll find V. M. really quite tame if you have been reading
Wild West stories.” Then Margaret said quietly to her berth
companion, “I do wish something exciting would happen the moment we
arrive, don’t you, Virg?”
The older girl smiled but shook her sunny head. “No need to wish for
that these days, dear. Life in Arizona is not nearly as thrilling as
it is in the city of New York, if one can believe the newspapers.”
“Don’t tell Betsy, for if she thinks it is to be too commonplace, it
will take all the thrill of expectancy out of it for her. You know
she is never really enjoying herself unless there is a mystery to
unravel or some adventure awaiting her.”
Fifteen minutes later the four girls were in the dining car.
Betsy beamed on her companions. The early morning sun falling on her
red-brown hair made it shine like burnished gold.
“Even your freckles look gilded this morning,” Barbara teased.
The pug nose of the youngest wrinkled at her tormentor, then with an
excited little squeal she exclaimed, “Oh, isn’t the desert just
gloriously lonesome looking? Those mountains over there are so bleak
and gray and the canons so dark! I can’t see a living thing
anywhere, can you?”
Margaret, being questioned, peered out at the wide sandy waste of
desert stretching to the distant mountains that rose grim, gray and
forbidding. Here and there a clump of greasewood or of mesquite was
half buried in mounds of sand that the frequent whirlwinds had left.
Betsy shivered. “Girls,” she said solemnly, “the very scene teems
with mystery. I just feel sure that an exciting adventure is about
to begin at most any moment. The setting is perfect for one. I’m
going to watch that sandhill over there as long as it’s in sight. I
expect to see a Mexican bandit peer around it and utter a shrill cry
which will mean—”
“Do the young ladies wish oatmeal this morning?” It was the suave
waiter who had interrupted, and although the girls gave their orders
with solemn faces, they laughed merrily when they were again alone.
“It’s too bad to disappoint you, Betsy, but that’s about the way all
of your hoped-for adventures will end,” Virginia told her friend.
The four girls, Virginia Davis, the seventeen-year-old mistress of
V. M. Ranch and her adopted sister, Margaret Selover, who was
sixteen, their neighbor, Barbara Blair Wente, also sixteen, and
Virginia’s guest, Betsy Clossen, who as yet was but fifteen, had
traveled from Vine Haven, where they had been attending boarding
school for the past year.
Although the other three girls were well acquainted with the Arizona
desert, Betsy Clossen had never been west of Chicago. However, she
had often frequented that big city, as she had many others in the
east, for her father was a famous detective who was often following
clues that led him from Chicago to New York, and, at first, not
wanting to be parted from his motherless little girl, he had taken
her with him, but at last, believing that he was doing the child an
injustice, he had placed her in the Vine Haven boarding school,
where she had since remained, making friends of all whom she met.
The years she had spent as her father’s close companion had given
her an insight into the ways of unraveling mysteries and the game
had fascinated her adventure-loving nature.
To the great amusement of the girls she was always trying to imagine
a mystery that she might solve it, but in the past year she had
twice failed while two of her comrades who had no such ambition had
been successful, and so, no wonder was it that Betsy looked forward
to the desert as a place where she would surely find a mystery to
solve.
Virginia, who had been born on the V. M. Ranch, which was twenty
miles from the town of Douglas, and who had lived there all her
seventeen years, was indeed overjoyed because she was returning to
the home she so loved, to her very dear brother Malcolm Davis and to
old Uncle Tex, who, when he was younger, had been the foreman of V.
M.
The father of Barbara Wente had recently purchased the Dartley Ranch
which was four miles north of V. M. This he had given to his son
Peyton. Barbara had learned that the old house was interesting, but
she had never seen it as, with the other girls, she had left almost
at once after the deal had been completed, for the school in the
east.
“What do you think, Virg?” Babs chattered as the four girls with
their hats on and their bags ready, sat peering ahead, “Peyton wrote
in his very last letter that he hasn’t even opened the old ranch
house yet. He is leaving it for us to do.”
“I adore old houses,” Betsy began, when Virginia exclaimed as she
pointed out the windows. “See that dark hole in the mountain just
ahead of us?” The others leaned forward to look.
“Oh, good!” Margaret exclaimed. “It’s the last tunnel, and Silver
Creek station is just beyond.” Megsy turned toward her adopted
sister, a flushed eagerness betraying the excitement she felt. “Just
think, Virg, in ten minutes we are to see Malcolm.”
Betsy uttered a little excited squeal as the train plunged into the
darkness of the tunnel.
“Virg, isn’t this a thrilling moment,” Barbara whispered, “not being
sure who is to be at the other end?”
Sunlight again flashed into the car windows. Virginia stooped and
looked out. “There’s the little old station that’s the only house
for miles and miles around, but I don’t see anyone on the platform
except the old man who lives there. Wonder what has happened?”
Mr. Wells, the Silver Creek station master, hurried forward when he
saw that the limited was slowing down. It never stopped unless it
had passengers. When the four girls alighted, the tallest placed her
bags on the platform and went toward the weather-tanned middle aged
man with hands outstretched. “Oh, Mr. Wells,” she exclaimed, and her
voice betrayed her anxiety, “why isn’t my brother here to meet me,
or Uncle Tex or one of the boys? I sent them a telegram. Didn’t you
get it?”
The small boy, Davie, who had a front tooth missing, had come
running up from somewhere. “Yes’m, Miss Virginia,” he said
breathlessly, “I took the telegram over to V. M. two days ago jest
as soon as Pa give it to me. Mis’ Mahoy was all the folks I could
find. The men was out riding the range. She said they seemed to be
huntin’ for something. She didn’t know what, but they acted mighty
puzzlin’. Uncle Tex, though, he was ’spected back that night or the
next.”
The girls had gathered around, listening, when suddenly the boy, who
felt very important, as he was the center of attention, suddenly
leaped across the platform and looked toward the north. “Pa,” he
shouted, “see that dust cloud a-comin’? D’y ’spose it’s a stampede
or suthin’? D’y ’spose—”
“I do believe it’s our automobile.” Virginia shaded her eyes to gaze
through the dazzling sunshine. It was indeed, but it was approaching
in such a zig-zag manner that even Mr. Wells was puzzled.
“I reckon the fellar at the steerin’ gear is plumb beat out. I
figger that thar car’s sort o’ runnin’ itself,” he speculated.
The watchers were convinced that this was true for as the cloud of
sand cleared away, they could see the big seven passenger car that
belonged to the V. M. Ranch, but the driver was neither Lucky nor
Malcolm.
“It can’t be Uncle Tex, for he doesn’t know how to drive,” Virginia
had just said, when Margaret exclaimed, “But it is Uncle Tex, and he
certainly doesn’t know how to drive. Oh, Virg, did you see the lunge
he took just then? I do believe he is going right over the tracks
and down into the dry creek instead of coming this way.”
“Mighty-tighty!” The station master’s favorite expletive expressed
his consternation. “Cain’t nuthin’ be done to head him off? I dunno
a tarnel thing about them pesky iron-bronchos.”
Virginia had caught one glance of the driver’s face as the front
wheel had struck a hummock of sand, causing the car to swerve. If it
should cross the tracks, it would plunge over the steep bank and
crash down among the huge rocks on the bed of the dry creek.
Leaping from the platform Virginia shouted, “Uncle Tex, stop the
car!”
Luckily it had slowed considerably since the sand, through which it
was ploughing, was deep and soft. Virginia sprang upon the running
board, leaned over and shut off the gas.
“Uncle Tex,” she cried, “why did you risk your life that way?” The
old man removed his sombrero and was mopping his brow. “I dunno,
Miss Virginia, dearie, I foresee, now, I orter not have done it, but
it allays looked plumb easy, and when thar wan’t no one else to come
an’ meet yo’ all, I jest figgered as I’d take a chance.”
The girl got in the car and skillfully brought it alongside the
platform. Then, leaping out, she began stowing the bags in back,
while Margaret and Babs welcomed the old man, who found, when he
tried to stand that his knees were “plumb beat out.” Betsy was
introduced, then Virginia asked, “Why didn’t Malcolm come?”
Uncle Tex looked quickly around to be sure that Mr. Wells was out of
hearing, then he said softly, “I cain’t be tellin’ ye, least-wise,
not here, Miss Virginia, dearie. Malcolm said, ‘Keep it dark.’ He’s
all right, though. You needn’t be fearin’ as to that.”
Betsy had heard enough of this conversation to be tingling with
curiosity and excitement. It certainly did sound to her as though
there was both mystery and adventure awaiting them, nor was she
wrong.